Settling Down
by Alexannah
Summary: "I'd have to settle down. In a house or something, a proper house with, with doors and things. Carpets! Me! Living in a house! Now that ... that is terrifying." Ten/Rose
1. Immigration and Customs

**Canon:** Only loosely based on beginning of The Impossible Planet.

* * *

**Settling Down**

By Alexannah

**Immigration and Customs**

If the shuttle ride had been long, the queue they were now in was longer. Rose, whose legs had already been wobbly when they began, was close to falling asleep on the Doctor's shoulder. He had been fiddling with his sonic screwdriver when they began, but had had to abandon that distraction after a while in favour of keeping Rose upright.

She peeled her eyes open and glanced back up at the clock. It was a different time system to Earth, and she couldn't make head or tail of it.

"Doctor."

"Yes?"

"How long have we been here?"

"Er ..." The Doctor looked up at the clock as well, and frowned. "I'm not sure."

"Don't tell me you can't read it."

"I can! I just have to work it out, give me a moment. Erm ... about ... you're not going to like the answer."

"Just tell me."

"Ten hours. Give or take ... a couple of. Um. Hours."

"You are joking."

"No. But we're almost there, Rose, I can see the end of the queue," the Doctor said in a forced cheerful tone.

With a great effort, Rose lifted her head. A large sign welcoming visitors to Em Yle spread above a door, which a family at the front of the queue were being ushered through. "Thank goodness."

"Sorry." The Doctor looked back down at her. "We shouldn't have come to such a popular planet. I just thought you'd like it. It's a bit different to Earth, but not too different, there's cities and countryside and in-between areas, the weather's not bad and the customs are similar. And the human population's about ten percent."

"What's the other ninety percent?"

"Mainly Ylies. But there's about five per cent Llosphanarians, and about fifteen per cent Gusk, and about one per cent miscellaneous." He sighed. "Which I guess is the category I fall into."

Rose felt for his hand, and he squeezed it. "Won't be long now."

Silence fell between them until they reached the front of the queue, and were finally brought through the doors. Disappointment plummeted through them as the other side turned out to be a waiting-room.

"I don't believe this," Rose muttered.

There were two chairs available, the rest were filled with the twenty or so people who had been ahead of them in the queue.

"At least there's chairs here," the Doctor said. "Why don't you have a snooze, I'll wake you when it's our turn."

A soft snore right next to his ear told him she had already taken his advice.


	2. Getting Started

"Names?" The person on the desk asked. Female, probably. She was roughly humanoid in shape, her skin a mottled fuchsia and a very pointed chin.

"The Doctor, and Rose Tyler."

She scribbled at the top of two forms. "Human?"

"Rose is."

"But you are ..."

"Gallifreyan."

She hesitated. "How do you spell that?"

The Doctor suppressed a sigh. "G-A-L-L-I-F-R-E-Y-A-N."

"Occupations."

"Doctor. And, er ..."

The questions went on. Finally, she stood, but hopes were dashed as she said, "Why don't you two take a seat, I need to check a couple of things."

Rose was sound asleep, curled up on the chair with her head resting on the Doctor's knee, when the worker returned. "Doctor?"

"One moment." He gently eased Rose off him and stood up. "Something wrong?"

"No, I was only double-checking some details."

"So we're done?"

"Almost. I need you both to sign and imprint."

He nodded. "All right. Where?"

He signed his form and pressed a thumb on the marked box, capturing an image of his thumbprint, before waking Rose for her to do the same. The forms were stamped, duplicated and finally Rose and the Doctor were presented with papers proving their legal entrance to the planet.

"Thank you," the Doctor said, pocketing them carefully. "Now where do we go?"

* * *

"So, come on then," Rose said, stifling a yawn as they finally stepped out into the air. "Let's get something to eat."

"Um, Rose, we've got no money."

"You've got the sonic, I thought you could get unlimited credit sticks with it?"

"This lot haven't gone over to the credit system yet," the Doctor admitted. "And the current currency is a bit harder to get hold of."

"So ... basically, we're broke. You brought us to a planet where we're broke."

"Relax, they'll join the credit system in a couple of years."

"Years? How exactly are we supposed to feed ourselves and keep a roof over our head in the meantime?"

"Don't worry! I'll ... think of something!" The Doctor began digging around in his pockets. "I must have something useful in here ..."

* * *

"Maybe you should get a job as an auctioneer," Rose suggested as the Doctor thumbed through the notes, counting them. "Or a salesperson."

"I'm trying very hard not to be insulted here, Rose."

"You're telling me it was really worth two thousand, seven hundred and fifty staples? Which is—how much in pounds?"

"Pounds in your time, just over a thousand." The Doctor pocketed the money carefully. "Anyway, this lot haven't seen a yoyo before ..."


	3. Flat Hunting

"So," the Doctor said. "Think you could stay awake long enough to find a new home?"

Rose groaned and dropped her head onto his shoulder. "I just want to sleep, I don't care about tomorrow."

"Well, you'll care when we're left on the streets tomorrow if we squander all the money on a hotel tonight," the Doctor said. "Look, we'll take the first place that we can afford, okay?"

"Okay," Rose mumbled.

They only had a couple of hours until the end of the working day. After asking around, they were finally pointed in the direction of an agency.

The first place they looked at was small, similar to a cheap studio flat on Earth, and looked in decent condition, but there was one problem.

The Doctor turned to the agent. "There's only one bed?"

Rose, who didn't care in the slightest, just moaned with longing to lay down on it. The agent looked rather taken aback.

"I'm sorry sir, were you requiring two?"

"Well, there are two of us."

He was greeted with silence, and realised that, what with Rose half-asleep on him and his arm round her waist, they had probably never appeared any _less_ platonic than they did now. Perhaps he should have specifically mentioned that they weren't a couple. Bit late now.

"I'm sorry, my mistake," the agent said, looking a bit embarrassed. "I just assumed ... but, well, we can still find you some two-bedroom properties to view, although the rent will be significantly higher."

"Never mind the rent," the Doctor said, his mind on the cash in his pocket. "What's the upfront cost?"

"Well, for two bedrooms the deposit, agents fee and first rent instalment together start at three thousand staples."

The Doctor groaned. "And ... this place?"

"Two thousand."

They could afford that. The Doctor glanced around the flat again. They could get a fold-up camp-bed to squeeze in the middle, and in the meantime he didn't begrudge taking the floor. Better than sleeping on the pavement.

"Rose?" he enquired, nudging her. "What do you think?"

She barely glanced around. "It's got a bed, that's all I care about."

The Doctor sat her down on the bed and had a quick scour round the flat with the sonic screwdriver. The flat was in pretty good condition. The lack of space would no doubt drive him mad after a while, but it would do for now.

"Okay, we'll take it."


	4. Finding Food

"I can't sleep."

The Doctor raised his head off his coat, not able to believe his ears. "What?"

"I said I can't sleep, Doctor—What are you doing down there?"

The Doctor shifted uncomfortably. "In case you didn't notice, there's only one bed. And how can you not be able to sleep? I had to wake you up about four times before we got here."

"In case _you_ didn't notice, it's a double bed, and I left a space for you. And I haven't eaten in three days, I can't sleep properly when I'm hungry."

The Doctor sat up, rubbing his eyes. _Humans_. So hard to please. Rose was lying on the far side of the mattress, her exhausted face peering at him in the perfect picture of innocence. His annoyance quickly drained away when his own stomach growled. "Fine, food it is."

By now it was late, and the Doctor was too tired to try and figure out what exactly the time was in Earth hours but there weren't many people around outside. He and Rose wandered the streets for a while, trying to find anywhere open, before coming across a small, brightly-lit fast-food place with an 'Open' sign.

"We should probably go easy on the money," the Doctor murmured as they ventured inside. "We don't know when we'll be able to get some more. Fancy splitting a poubun?"

"What's that?"

"Local speciality. It's ... bit like a burger, I suppose, but a different shape and a bit spicy. They're quite big."

"Yeah, okay."

"Want a drink, too?"

"Yeah, don't mind."

The Doctor stepped up to the counter. "Could we have a poubun and chips, with a zonberry milkshake please?"

"Eighteen staples, sir."

Rose grinned. "Really? They have chips?"

"Rose, what kind of a friend would I be if I made you live on a planet that didn't have chips?"

"A bad one," Rose said dead seriously. "So what's a zonberry?"

"Closest thing on this planet to a strawberry," the Doctor replied, taking the tray.

"You didn't get yourself a drink."

"I'm not fussed, I'll just have a sip of yours if that's all right."

"I suppose so," Rose pretended to say grudgingly. "It was your yoyo after all."


	5. Sleeping Arrangements

Rose was falling asleep on the Doctor's shoulder again as they retraced their steps back to the flat.

"You know, you don't have to sleep on the floor," she murmured after he let them both in. "There's room for two."

The Doctor looked down at her, trying to work out if she would still mean that when she had had a decent night's sleep or not. "Are you sure?"

"Yes, idiot. You take chivalry way too far. Come on, nice soft mattress awaits."

"Oh ..." He was too tired to argue. "All right."

Rose collapsed onto the mattress and shifted over to the wall side. The Doctor gently removed her shoes, kicked his own off and pulled his coat, suit jacket and tie off. Before getting onto the mattress himself, he lay his coat over Rose in lieu of covers. She was already zonked out and didn't notice.

For a double bed, it wasn't that big. Or maybe it just felt small because the Doctor was used to being alone in one. Either way, he was very conscious of their close proximity to each other. Although he lay as close to the edge as was possible without falling off, he could still smell Rose's shampoo as if someone was holding a bottle of it under his nose.

Shampoo, he thought sleepily. Going to have to buy some ... and soap... and food... and plates ... and bedcovers ... and clothes ... and ... and ...

His first waking thoughts were _Need curtains_ as Em Yle's sun pierced his eyelids. A moment after he'd woken up, he realised that he, or Rose, or both, had moved in their sleep. She was now burrowed into his chest, her hair tickling his nose, and his arm—how did that happen?—around her waist. He withdrew it as quickly as he dared, trying not to wake her up.

It was some time before Rose stirred, during which he lay as still as he could, composing a very long mental list of everything they would need. When she woke, she seemed quite surprised and a little embarrassed at her Time Lord pillow.

"Sorry," she mumbled, pulling back a bit and rubbing her eyes, smudging four-day-old mascara everywhere. "Was I pushing you out?"

The Doctor grinned, reached over and with his shirt sleeve attempted to stop her looking like a panda. "No, just preventing my escape." Rose laughed.


	6. The First Morning

The seemingly eternal shuttle ride and the hours of standing in line had certainly taken their toll on the pair of them. The Doctor volunteered to go out and find them some breakfast while Rose took the first turn in the shower, and upon returning he found her back on the mattress, apparently dozing, curled up underneath his coat.

For a moment he was tempted to forget about the food and shower and join her in getting a few more hours' shuteye. Then he noticed her discarded clothes on the floor and thought better of it.

Instead he unpacked the shopping. A large bakery up the road had supplied a small loaf of sweet bread and two takeaway coffees, which would do for breakfast, and on the way back he had nabbed a couple of necessities that couldn't wait any longer from the supermarket, namely soap and toilet roll.

"Doctor?"

He turned. Rose's face, now scrubbed free of the smudged makeup, peered at him from under his collar. "Morning, Rose."

"Morning," she replied. "You found us some breakfast?"

"Yup. Help yourself." The Doctor turned round while she got dressed, feeling a slight blush in his cheeks that she fortunately couldn't see. It wasn't as if they hadn't lived together before, but this was somewhat more intimate than he was used to. He told himself to get a grip.

"Okay, you can turn round," Rose told him, smoothing down her crumpled top. "I feel a right mess in these."

The Doctor grinned. "I probably look just as bad. I think clothes should be the first thing to get today, don't you?"

"Yeah. Can I smell coffee?"

Breakfast was a fairly quiet affair, both parties deep in thought, then Rose went back to the mattress while the Doctor took to the shower. Soap had hardly ever felt so wonderful, after days with nothing but the clothes on his back (now scattered on the bathroom floor). Putting them back on afterwards just felt _wrong_—especially since they had no towels to dry off on—but it wouldn't be for long.

It must have been gone midday by the time they stepped outside the flat with a long shopping list. The hours on Em Yle would take some getting used to, the Doctor said. And not just the time system, but the actual daily cycle, which was shorter than Earth days. At the present moment, the jet lag was also not helping.

"Shall we split up for clothes, then meet up later and do food together?" Rose suggested. "Should be quicker that way."

The Doctor agreed. "Tell you what." He pulled the psychic paper out of his pocket and handed it to Rose. "I'll send a message on this when I'm ready, saying where I am, then you can join me when you're done."

"You're assuming I'll take longer than you," Rose pointed out.

"It's clothes shopping, of course you will."

Rose glared, and the Doctor ducked.


	7. A Lesson in Financial Geography

Clothes shopping—or really, any shopping other than necessary shopping—was usually cathartic for Rose, but that was in the day of the Doctor's handy unlimited credit sticks. At this moment, however, she was trying to figure out how far the budget he had left her with was going to stretch.

She'd found a street of clothes shops, but the problem was that forty staples would only get her a couple of items in any of them. Which wasn't really enough.

Rose sighed, running a hand longingly over a rack of soft tops in a material she didn't recognise, priced at twenty-five staples each. This was impossible, she couldn't just have one change of clothes. And there was other things she needed, like shoes and underwear ...

A sudden warmth in her jacket pocket distracted her, and she pulled out the psychic paper. Across it in the Doctor's handwriting was: _Stop right there, I've found what we need. Come and find me outside flat. D x_

"Don't worry, I haven't bought anything," Rose preceded the conversation as she walked up to the front of the building, where the Doctor was standing, accompanied by a Yle. "What've you found?"

The Doctor grinned at her. "We went to the wrong side of town. Well, I say wrong, I mean the expensive side. Dab here—" he gestured to the Yle "—says the market is our best option."

Rose introduced herself to Dab, shaking his fuchsia hand. "And this market sells clothes as well as food, yeah?"

"Absolutely," Dab replied. He gazed into Rose's face for a moment, in apparent interest with perhaps a little attraction thrown in, until the Doctor cleared his throat loudly. "Oh—sorry. The market is this way."

Rose couldn't help but grin as they found the market, crammed with stalls and bustling with Ylies, a few Gusk, and even one or two humans. No matter how many she visited, she always loved an alien market. She had to tug on the Doctor's arm at one point, as he looked ready to get thoroughly distracted by a stall selling shiny cogs and buttons and what looked like spare parts for every piece of technology you could ever own; likewise, he had to practically carry her away from a stall selling handmade bronze jewellery.

Several stalls in a row were selling clothes. There were no suits to speak of, but some shirts similar to the ones the Doctor usually wore, which he stopped to examine further. Rose moved along until she found the women's clothes. Perhaps because of the Ylies' natural colouring, most of the clothes were quite plain and pale, but one stall on the end assaulted Rose's eyes with a vast array of colours and patterns, obviously meant for non-natives.

Forty staples here was enough to fit her up with a whole new wardrobe, and once she'd paid she headed back to find the Doctor. He wasn't at the shirt stall, and Dab seemed to have disappeared too. Rose was about to panic, when she heard her name being called.

"ROSE! I've found underwear!"


	8. This Little Chicken Went to Market

Laden down with clothes, hoping that their shared wardrobe would accommodate them all, Rose and the Doctor had to head back to the flat before returning to the market for food. Dab had pointed out which were the best stalls to buy different foods on, so once they'd navigated their way back there, they made a beeline for the first stall.

"I've never seen half these vegetables," Rose said, gazing at the mounds of fruit and vegetables and the bundles of herbs. "Wait, I've seen that one. Didn't we have it on Unkabrall?"

The Doctor looked where she was pointing. "That's Romanescue cauliflower. From Earth."

"Oh. No wonder it looks familiar."

"I don't blame you for thinking it looks alien," the Doctor said with a smile. "Anyway, maybe we should go with the familiar for now, till things look better on the money front."

Rose wasn't sure when that would be, but they were being optimistic. She nodded. "Okay. Well, I see asparagus, leeks, I think that's beetroot ... are they onions?"

"Shallots. No onions here."

"Mushrooms. I think."

"The mushrooms are different here, definitely worth trying," the Doctor said. "Shall we try the UFO-looking cauliflower?"

"Yeah. And what's that?"

"Fayn. Root vegetable, tastes somewhere between a carrot and a sweet potato. Fancy trying it?"

Their bags full of vegetables and bananas, they moved on to the next stall, which was selling rice and other cereals. The stall after that was selling tins, jars, bottles and packets; by this time Rose's arms were ready to fall off with the weight.

"What I wouldn't give for a shopping trolley right now," she muttered.

"We're almost done," the Doctor assured her. "Just meat to go. What do you fancy?"

"I don't mind, whatever they've got. Within reason."

The stall Dab had pointed out didn't seem to have anything on it. The Gusk behind it smiled warmly at them.

"What can I get for you today, sir, madam?"

"What do you have?" the Doctor asked.

"Just for the two of you, is it?" the man asked. "How big's your freezer?"

The Doctor and Rose looked at each other. "Er ... miniscule, why?" the Doctor said.

"Ah. Then you'll be wanting poultry, comes in the smallest portions. We have jujo, chicken or kang. No duck today, sorry."

The Doctor raised an eyebrow at Rose. "Stick with chicken for now?" She nodded. "Chicken, please."

"Coming right up. Asp!" the Gusk bellowed behind him. "Bring us a chicken!" He turned back to his customers. "Nine staples, please sir."

The Doctor was about to hand the money over when a younger Gusk appeared, carrying a wooden cage. Inside was a live chicken, squawking indignantly. Rose blanched—they weren't going to kill it right there, were they?

"Here you are, madam," the man said cheerfully, placing it in Rose's arms. "All yours."


	9. When in Rome

"So we're agreed. Some things are worth paying a bit of extra money for." Rose placed the more expensive, but thoroughly dead, chicken in the fridge and closed the door.

The Doctor grimaced, rearranging the other food items they'd just bought to try and fit them all in the cupboard. "Absolutely."

"Is it normal for people here to buy home-slaughter animals?"

"Obviously for some, yes."

"Well I think that's an economy we can live without." Rose sighed and flopped onto the mattress. "We still need a load of stuff, don't we."

"Towels, bedclothes, shampoo, cooking equipment, cutlery ... yeah, a lot." The Doctor crammed the final tin in the cupboard and shut the door. "I don't think towels and bedclothes can wait any longer, and we're going to need some crockery and cutlery to be able to eat tonight."

Rose yawned. "Exactly how many hours are in a day here?"

"Earth hours or Em Yle hours?"

"Both."

"One hour here is fifty minutes, not sixty. And there's twenty of them in a day, rather than twenty-four."

Rose groaned.

"At least it's nice round figures. You don't want to try the system on Bakavenate. Thirty-seven minutes to an hour, twenty-nine in a day ..."

"All right! Point taken."

"I saw a shop with crockery in the window near the supermarket, don't know about other things. We could split up, one of us go there and the other try to find the other things?"

"Couldn't it wait till after lunch? I'm famished."

The market had sold all kinds of finger food and hot dishes in takeaway trays, which came with little plastic cutlery. The cheapest item was _indso_, a kind of creamy, mildly curry flavour soup, which they had brought two portions of back with them.

"It's supposed to be eaten with bread," the Doctor said, breaking a piece off the loaf from that morning. "To use up stale bread, you break it up and let it soak."

"It's nice," Rose said after a hesitant sip. "What's in it?"

"Some veg, mainly mushrooms I think, probably some meat or fish ..." The Doctor took a bite of soup-soaked bread. "Meat, I think. Can't be too certain what. Might be more than one kind. Bread?"

"Yeah, okay. Why not." Rose stirred bite-sized pieces of bread into the soup and let them go soggy, the way the Doctor was with his. Silence fell for a while as they ate their lunch. Rose noticed the mushrooms had a distinctly stronger flavour than she was used to, but she decided she liked it.

She still hadn't washed, at least not with soap, and was still wearing the clothes she'd arrived on Em Yle wearing. All she felt like doing was having a nice long hot soak, changing into her new pyjamas, and crawling into bed, but there were still a good few hours in the day—although she couldn't be sure how many—and things that needed to be done. Not to mention they only had a shower, not a bath.

"One of us should get a clock," she said suddenly. "Or a watch. We don't have any way of telling the time here."

"Good point. And a map of the area would be useful too." The Doctor thought for a moment. "Come to think of it, I'm not even sure which country we're in, let alone which city ..."


	10. Rose Pink, TARDIS Blue

"They only came in packs of four," Rose said, showing the Doctor one of the plain white plates. "But I managed to fit them all in the cupboard okay. Did you get all the other stuff?"

"Yup. Found a store near the market, sold everything from bread makers to pepper shakers. I got us the basics; saucepan, frying pan, chopping board, knives."

"What about the towels and bedclothes?"

The Doctor grinned. "You'll love them. Was going to get plain, but actually the coloured ones were cheaper ..." He pulled a folded towel out of the shopping bag, and Rose grinned.

"Pink!"

"Thought you'd like that."

"You're going to use pink towels, are you?" Rose said with a chuckle.

"'Course not. I got yellow ones for me. Anyway, I haven't shown you the bedclothes yet."

"Go on then."

He opened the second bag, and Rose gasped. The material was a deep midnight blue—TARDIS blue, in fact—patterned with stars.

"They're beautiful."

"That's what I thought. They were slightly more than the flowery set, but ..."

"No, no, definitely worth it," Rose said, stroking the cover nostalgically. "What about the actual quilt?"

"Got to go back for that. And the pillows. Too much to carry at once." The Doctor took a deep breath. "Dare I ask, how much money do we have left?"

Rose took out her remaining staples, and he stared at the now very small pile in front of them for a moment. "That's not much," the Doctor said heavily. "Certainly not another month's rent. Might just get us food till then, but not much else. I wonder how much a clockwork mouse would go for round here ..."

"Well, maybe now's as good a time as any to mention," Rose said. "I've got a job interview."

The Doctor's head shot up. Until that point, neither of them had mentioned the dreaded 'J' word, although they knew perfectly well that at least one of them was going to have to get one at some point—they couldn't survive on the contents of the Doctor's pockets forever. "What? How'd you manage that, you only went to the supermarket!"

"Exactly. They had a sign asking for staff in the window, and I asked. They said all they needed was proof of entry to the planet, and an interview. I'm going day after tomorrow."

The Doctor made a pretty good impression of a goldfish for a minute or two. "And you only mentioned this now?"

"You walked in asking about the crockery, so I answered you."

"Rose ..."

"What?"

"We've got the psychic paper, you could have any qualification you wanted. You could go for a much better job than a shelf-stacker."

"Maybe later," Rose said. "But for the moment, considering we have less than a month to find some rent, I thought it would be best if I went for a job I know I can actually do, and do well, rather than be too ambitious."

"Okay," the Doctor said slowly. "That's logical. But don't for a moment think that I'll let you carry the burden of bringing home money on your own. There's got to be a good job round here for a modest genius ..."


	11. This Little Time Lord Went Back For Milk

The Doctor poured the tea into two new mugs, stirred, and then froze. "Oh, no."

"What?"

"There's no milk. Rose! We can't have tea without milk! I didn't think of milk ..."

"I don't think we got anything dairy, did we?" Rose asked.

"No." The Doctor looked around for a clock, and remembered there wasn't one. "Reckon the market will still be there?"

Rose shrugged. "How should I know?"

"If it's not, we'll have to go to the supermarket." The Doctor pulled on his coat, and paused. "Are you coming?"

Rose shook her head. "Tired."

Muttering something about human stamina and getting a brand new pillow thrown at him in the process, the Doctor left the flat and headed back to the market. He arrived just as the first sun was beginning to set, and some of the vendors were beginning to pack up.

"Excuse me, where can I get milk?" he asked a passer-by, who pointed him towards a stall on the end. The Doctor hurried up to the owner.

"Hi, sorry, are you still open?"

"For another hour, sir. What'll it be?"

"Erm ..." The Doctor looked at the list. Cow's milk, naz milk, mon milk, goat's milk, or almond. Almond? "What's the little 'U' after 'Mon'?" he asked.

"U stands for unpasteurised."

"Oh." The next cheapest was naz. He wasn't entirely sure what a naz was, but when he asked for it, the owner said they'd sold out.

"Sorry, we've only got cow and goat left."

"I'll take a pint of cow's milk then," the Doctor said, half-expecting to be asked to milk it himself, and relieved when instead the owner retrieved a bottle from the fridge.

"Anything else, sir? Eggs, cheese?"

"Yeah. Could I have half a dozen eggs, a pack of butter, and ..." Now presented with a list of cheeses, the Doctor skimmed down till he found a familiar name. "Some double Gloucester."

After he'd paid, the Doctor asked, "Where could I get a map of the area?"

"Ooh, not sure. You could try the supermarket, otherwise you'd probably need to go further into town."

"Thank you."

Deciding to leave the map for another day, the Doctor did stop at a stall selling watches and got a small, cheap alarm clock for the flat. He returned to find Rose at the tiny stove, dressed in her new pyjamas with a towel around her head; the saucepan bubbling away and two chicken pieces sizzling in the frying pan.

"You're cooking dinner?" he said in surprise, putting the milk down on the table. "Are you sure that's a good idea? This flat didn't come with a fire extinguisher."

Rose stuck her tongue out at him. "And here I was thinking you would appreciate coming home to a meal cooked by someone else for a change."

"You are absolutely right. I apologise." The Doctor still watched her warily. "Do you want a hand with the chicken?"

"No, but you could do the tea now if you want to feel useful."

"Okay." The Doctor reheated the tea and added the milk, keeping half an eye on Rose as he did so. "Watch it, that's about to boil over."

"I've got it, I've got it. Backseat chef."


	12. Universal Roaming

**AN:** I should warn, there will be the odd chapter that's overall sad rather than funny. Not often, but on occasion. I'm trying to keep it realistic. This is one.

* * *

Rose took a deep breath. The Doctor slipped his hand into hers. "I'm right here."

"Thanks. Okay, I'm dialling."

Her fingers trembled as she selected her mother's number, and pressed dial.

"Mum, it's me."

"Rose, sweetheart, 'bout time you called. Listen, is the Doctor's sonic whatsit any good with plumbing? 'Cause first the boiler goes and Shareen's brother nearly floods the place—"

"Mum," Rose cut over Jackie's monologue. "I've got something to tell you."

There was a pause. "That sounds serious, love. Shouldn't you come home to tell me?"

"That could be bit of a problem."

"What do you mean?"

"Mum ... we've lost the TARDIS."

"How d'you mean, _lost?_ How can you lose a bleedin' spaceship? Where'd you last have it?"

"It's not that simple, she kind of fell into the centre of a planet. With no way to get her out. So ... we're sort of stuck."

There was a long silence while Jackie digested this.

"Are you telling me," she said, in a dangerously low voice, "that the Doctor can't take you home? After he _promised_ me—"

"It's not his fault, Mum. And it's really not like we're dead or anything, we're both fine. Really. We just can't go anywhere."

"_Just!_ Is he there?"

The Doctor shook his head frantically. Rose glared at him and handed the mobile over. She could have sworn his hands were actually shaking as he took it, despite his being well out of Jackie's reach. "Jackie. Er ... hi. How are you?"

"_How am I?_ You're telling me my daughter is stranded on some planet somewhere and you're asking _how am I?_"

"All right, sorry! Poor choice of words!"

"You promised me, Doctor, you said you'd bring her back to me."

The Doctor closed his eyes. Rose recognised the signs of guilt. "I know I did. I'm sorry."

"_Sorry?_"

Jackie shrieked for a couple of minutes, and then began to plead. "Please, Doctor, isn't there anything you can do? Hitch a lift? Teleport? Anything!"

"It's not that simple," the Doctor replied. "Wish it were. But we're not in the twenty-first century anymore, so going back to Earth wouldn't be the same as going home."

"What?"

The Doctor passed the phone back to Rose. "Mum, we're in the year 4179, on a planet called Em Yle. And we're okay, really."

"But ... if you're in the future ..."

"Superphone, Mum, remember. Can call anywhere, anytime."

"Right. I forgot that ... Oh, Rose." Jackie sniffed. "I'm never going to see you again, am I?"

"No," Rose said quietly. "No, you're not."

"But you can keep phoning, right? With your superphone, I mean this isn't—this isn't the last time I'm going to hear your voice?"

"Yeah, I'll keep calling," Rose said. "Let you know how we're doing. It'll just be like having me living in another country."

"I suppose."

"Anyway, Mum, we're fine. We've found somewhere to live, and I've got a job interview this week, and the people round here seem pretty friendly."

"Aliens?"

"Mostly. Some humans."

Jackie pressed for more details, and Rose obliged, trying to make it sound as much like an adventure as she possibly could. When her little knowledge of the planet had run out, there was a pause, Jackie still sniffling the other end.

"When will you call again?"

"I'll let you know if I get the job or not," Rose said with a small smile that her mother couldn't see. "So you'll talk to me again soon."

"Take care, sweetheart. Both of you. I love you, Rose."

"Love you too, Mum."

She heard Jackie begin sobbing again just before she hung up, and squeezed her own eyes shut, trying to repress tears. The Doctor pulled her gently into his arms and just held her while they came.


	13. Delayed Jet Lag

Before they retired, the Doctor managed to rig the towels so they made temporary curtains, and it was perhaps because of this that they both slept so well. When Rose finally awoke, feeling more refreshed than she had for about a week, she noticed the time on the new clock read 13:17.

"Doctor," Rose said, shaking him. "Wake up. It's the afternoon."

"What?"

"We've slept all morning."

The Doctor rolled over, looked blearily at the clock for a while, and then replied. "No we haven't."

"We haven't? I thought midday here was at ten?"

"It is. But look at the date." The Doctor pointed.

"So?"

"It's the day after tomorrow. We've slept for about twenty hours." He rubbed his eyes.

"The day after—My interview!" Rose shot out of bed and ran to the shower. "It's in forty minutes!"

"Here!" The Doctor threw her one of the pink towels. "I'll get you some breakfast."

"Thanks!" Rose turned the shower on, hopping from one foot to the other as it took a painfully long time to warm up. After a quick soaping, she dried off and emerged, wrapped in the towel, to find the Doctor had laid out some of her more formal new clothes ready to put on, and was cutting up the last of the sweet loaf and buttering it.

"What do you want on this?" he asked, his back to her as she changed.

"I'll just have it plain," Rose answered, and wolfed it down as quick as she dared, swallowing half the coffee in one gulp. "Thanks Doctor, you're brilliant. Who says you can't do domestic, eh?"

"Oy, you're running too late to start teasing," the Doctor said with a grin. "Ready?"

"Ready. How'd I look?"

He looked her up and down. "Have you combed your hair? 'Cause it's a bit ..."

Rose froze. "Comb. Don't have a comb. No! I can't go to an interview like this!" She was starting to hyperventilate, but the Doctor fumbled in his pockets and drew out a comb. She stared.

"You could have mentioned _earlier_ you had this!" She took it and began attacking her locks, wincing as the teeth stuck. "Oh, this is going to take forever ..."

"Here, let me." As the only one of them who wasn't panicking, the Doctor took the comb and did a much quicker job of sorting her hair than she would have. "There, you look lovely."

"Thanks." Rose looked at the clock. "I'm going to have to run."

"Allow me." Before Rose could stop him, the Doctor had lifted her in his arms, and was hurrying out of the flat. He positively sprinted to the supermarket, arriving with four minutes to spare.

"There," he gasped as he let her down. "Better not to arrive out of breath, not the best first impression."

Not having time to thank him properly, Rose planted a quick kiss on his cheek before hurrying inside.

* * *

The Doctor watched Rose head in, and stifled a yawn. His legs suddenly felt like rubber. He managed to make it round the corner before he had to sit down. He'd just rest a moment, he told himself. Just a moment ...

* * *

After the interview, Rose ventured outside to find the Doctor had disappeared. Assuming had had headed back to the flat, and slightly disappointed that he hadn't waited for her, she began the journey back on her own, only to find him fast asleep on a bench.


	14. Fish Out of Water

"I can't believe we didn't see this stall last time."

"We didn't come round this part. And we didn't think to ask," the Doctor replied. "Now come on, choose. What'll it be for the 'congratulations on getting the job' dinner?"

"I haven't tried any of these before," Rose said, looking along the rows and rows of fish. "So I guess I don't mind—well, nothing with tentacles, but otherwise anything."

"You're not local, then?" the stall owner said, looking at them in interest.

"Nope. Just arrived. Everything new," the Doctor said with a grin. "What do you recommend?"

"We have a special deal on mixed shellfish today. A very successful catch this morning, we're overflowing with the stuff."

"Fancy shellfish?" the Doctor said to Rose. "Wait, caught this morning? That's fresh. Are we near the coast?"

The owner looked at the Doctor as if he was trying to be funny. "Where did you think we were?"

"I don't know," the Doctor replied honestly. "We only just got to this planet and we're not too sure where we landed."

"This is Slogv."

"Slojev?"

"Slow-jev," he repeated, slower. "The coast's about five miles east."

"Is there a beach?" Rose said eagerly. "I've always wanted to live on the seaside ..."

"What am I, a fishmonger or tourist information? Yes, there's a beach, miss. Now, what'll it be?"

Shortly afterwards, the pair left the market with a small yellow fish, a bag of mixed shellfish and some edible seaweed that the Doctor promised tasted of more than just salt. They made a detour, thinking it was about time to get some maps, and once home, the Doctor started cooking fish pie.

"We've probably got enough there for four people, Doctor," Rose pointed out.

"Even better, no need to cook tomorrow. Want to try some glanire?"

Rose took a hesitant bite of the crispy seaweed, and almost choked. "I thought you said it wasn't salty!"

"No, I said it tasted of more than salt. Did I mention it's an acquired taste?"

"No you did not."

"Oh. Sorry."

A comfortable silence stretched, the only sound being the sauce bubbling in the saucepan. Rose gazed round the room, wondering what they could do to it to make it feel a bit more like home. The fridge had a nice hum to it that reminded her of the TARDIS, but otherwise the flat still felt like a temporary place to stay. It was foreseeable that they would be there for a long time.

They could check the contract and see if a lick of paint was allowable. If not, a throw or rug would add some more colour to the place. And a couple of plants, not to mention some thick curtains, for the window would hopefully not be too expensive. The Doctor was bound to amass some unidentifiable knick-knacks over time, no doubt they would make the place look more lived-in.

Rose missed the TARDIS, but realised the Doctor must be feeling the pain of separation far more than she was. So far he seemed to be taking it all in his stride, but she was sure that at some point it would hit home. She would just have to be prepared to help him when it happened.

"Mum says hi," Rose said after hanging up, just as the Doctor was taking the fish pie out the oven.

"Hope you passed my regards onto her."

"She also says you'd better look after me properly, or so help her she'll find a way to get here and slap you all the way back to the twenty-first century."

The Doctor shuddered. "I wish I could say I didn't believe her."


	15. Permanent Tourists

The next morning, Rose awoke to find the Doctor already up, pouring over a map on the table. "Morning."

"Morning Rose," he said without looking up. "I've worked out where we are."

"Good." Rose slipped out of bed and ventured over. "Where on Em Yle are we?"

He moved the map to one side, revealing two more underneath. "Okay, this is a map of the planet. We're down here, in Cogodia."

Like Earth, Em Yle seemed to be mainly sea. Unlike Earth, there was only one large land mass, which stretched almost from one pole to another, and the rest was dotted with island clusters. The land mass was divided into colour groups, and the Doctor pointed to one small purple area on the eastern edge, about halfway between the equator and the south pole, labelled _Cogodia_.

"So Cogodia's the country?"

"Yes." The Doctor moved that map to one side and pulled back the second. "This is a map of Cogodia. We're here, in Slogv. It's a city, but only just, not a very big one."

Rose grinned. "Right on the coast."

"Yeah. Now ..." The Doctor turned to the third map. "This one's of Slogv. We're around here somewhere." The city was divided into colour sections, and he pointed to the one marked 'EC'.

"What's EC mean?"

"Eastern Central. Look, see the one in the middle is C, and look at the others round it ... NC, EC, SC, WC—Rose, don't laugh—and then further out, it's just N, E, S and W. If we wanted to visit the beach, we'd go out to E."

"_Can_ we visit the beach?"

"I think we should look into local transport prices first." The Doctor pushed the maps around, trying to find something. "Where'd I put it?—Oh, there you are." He uncovered a book titled 'The Tourist's Guide to Em Yle'.

"We're not tourists," Rose said.

"I know, but they didn't have an Em Yle for immigrants book. Anyway, I prefer to think of us as permanent tourists."

Rose grinned. "I like that."

"Public transport seems reasonable," the Doctor said, flicking through the relevant section of the book. "Maybe in a couple of paycheck's time we could get some swimming things and go out there."

"How long will the weather be like this for?" Rose asked, resting her head on his shoulder.

"Er ... good question. Weather ... weather ..." the Doctor thumbed through the book. "Don't know. This book was written with the assumption that the reader knows what the date is."

"That's helpful."


	16. Double Standards

"So how long have you been here?"

"Only a few days," Rose replied, taking a sip of tea. It wasn't the kind of tea she was used to; as it was mainly humans that drank that, it wasn't an option on the average Em Yle vending machine. This tea was stronger, sweeter and had a funny aftertaste she wasn't sure she liked, but was still better than the machine's coffee.

Elsa, the first co-worker to talk to her, was a Yle about Jackie's age who seemed to mother the younger employees. Rose had warmed to her immediately.

"Where are you from?"

"Earth," Rose replied.

"Goodness, that's a long way to come."

_Further away than you might think_, Rose thought, but just took another sip of Yle tea.

"Did you come on your own?"

Rose shook her head. "Just me and my companion. We've got a flat on Nontun Road."

"Oh, I know that road. It's quite a nice area. Very convenient for work, isn't it."

"Mm, yeah."

Her first day at the supermarket had gone all right. She was worried all the reaching for the top shelves would eventually do her back in, but hopefully it would only be temporary. At the most, it would only be for two years, once the credit system came into the planet. Although whether the Doctor would let her retire in luxury once they could get the unlimited credit was another matter; he could be strangely double-standard about that sort of thing.

She wondered how he was doing, at the flat on his own, whether he had died of boredom yet—or blown up the street whilst trying to beat the boredom. This kind of life did not come naturally to him.

_Stop worrying_, she told herself. _He'll be fine. He's nine hundred years old, he knows how to entertain himself._

"Are you all right?" Elsa asked in concern. Rose forced a smile.

"Yeah, fine. Just trying not to picture what my companion's up to right now."

"Oh, dear. Is he not well behaved?"

This seemed like an odd sort of phrase to Rose, but she didn't question it. "Not really. Well ... it's just that when he's on his own, he gets a bit restless."

"Oh, I ... see." Elsa looked quite awkward. "I'm sorry."

* * *

Rose's break ended and she returned to the shelves. Elsa watched her for a while, feeling very sorry for the young woman. Poor Rose, she was such a nice girl, she deserved more. Elsa resolved that, if she ever met said companion, she would have some very strong words to say to that unfaithful bastard.


	17. A Stimulating Day

When Rose entered the flat, she found the Doctor resting his head on his arms on the table, apparently dozing. A newspaper lay under him at the jobs section, and something was in the oven, though Rose wasn't sure what.

"Hi," she said as he opened one eye.

"How's your day?" he mumbled, opening the other eye and propping his head up on his elbow.

"Fine. How was yours?"

"Erm ... fine," he clearly lied. Rose gave him a sympathetic hug.

"You were bored stiff, weren't you?"

He sniffed. "I was not."

"Yeah, you were, you liar." She ruffled his hair fondly. "How's the job hunting going?"

The Doctor grimaced. "Boring, boring, not my field of expertise, boring, bad hours, boring, bad pay, and a few more boring ones."

"Well, filling shelves isn't exactly my idea of stimulating."

"I realise that, and I'm not trying to say that I'm too good for that kind of job—"

"But?"

"But I really want to find something that I could tolerate actually staying in long-term rather than being driven mad after a week of it. But there's hardly anything challenging on offer at all."

"Oh, Doctor. Don't worry, you'll find something. At least we don't have to worry about paying the rent any more, as long as we're careful."

"I can't ask you to support both of us indefinitely Rose, that's not fair."

"You don't have to ask, I'm doing it happily. I'd rather that than you get a crappy job, I'd be worrying how long you'd keep it for."

The Doctor gave her a look, but decided not to comment. "Well, I insist that once I've found the perfect vocation, you find something more challenging for yourself," he insisted. "You're brilliant, you could do any number of things."

"Thanks. And it's a deal. So, what's cooking?"

"Casserole, which should be ready in ..." The Doctor pushed the paper side, hunting for the clock. "Ten minutes ago." He shot up out of the chair and into the kitchenette.

"Is it all right?"

A pause while the Doctor got the dish out of the oven, and half-dropped it onto the bench with a hiss of pain. "Ow! We really need to get some proper oven gloves, the heat burns through the towel too fast."

"I'll add them to the list. Hey, you could get them tomorrow while I'm out. Give you something to do."

"Sounds stimulating," Rose heard him mutter from round the corner. "Anyway, this looks fine. Chicken's not overcooked. Are you hungry now?"

Rose moved the newspapers off the table while the Doctor dished up. He'd gone quite quiet. "Doctor, are you all right?" she asked.

"Mm? Yeah."

Rose wasn't sure she believed him, although she didn't want to press the matter. They ate in silence, the Doctor looking deep in thought. Towards the end, he seemed to snap out of it. "So, how was your day?"

* * *

Before she went to bed that night, Rose compiled a list.

_Dear Doctor—_

_Here is a list of things for you to do while I'm at work._

_1. Get oven gloves, dishcloths and cleaner._

_2. Make the bed (properly this time!)_

_3. __Clean the windows_

_4. __Fix the hole in my left trainer_

_5. Find something to use as a bin_

_6. __See if you've got any board or card games in your pockets_

_7. __If not, get some, including something that can be played with only one player_

_8. Draw some pictures we can hang on the walls_

_9. Cook dinner__  
_

_10. Organise a race between the snails on the window-sill_

That should keep him occupied a while ...


	18. Meeting the Neighbours

**AN:**I point readers towards reddwarfaddict's 13 Woodcutter Road as one of my inspiration sources. Do go and read it. One of my favourite fics ever. (The other source should be obvious.)

* * *

When Rose returned to the flat, she found it empty. Wondering where the Doctor was, she found a note on the kitchen bench reading _Come next door—no. 73_.

She was let in the moment she knocked on the door. The flat was bigger than theirs, and the occupants were a middle-age Gusk couple who welcomed her warmly. The Doctor grinned at her from their sofa, looking right at home with a mug in his hands.

"I see you've been making friends," Rose said.

"Rose, come and meet the neighbours," the Doctor grinned. "This is Adge and Lada Mojofixx. And this is my companion, Rose Tyler."

"It's a pleasure to meet you," Adge said, taking Rose's hand warmly in both his own.

"You too. I hope my companion hasn't been making a nuisance of himself," Rose said, glancing at the Doctor over her shoulder, to which he looked affronted and mouthed, 'Me?'

"Oh, no. Quite the contrary, he offered his cleaning services."

Rose raised an eyebrow. "Cleaning services?"

"He did the washing up, dusted and hovered the whole flat, and did all our laundry for us," Lada said. "Free of charge."

"Oh he didn't, did he?" Rose shook her head, trying not to laugh. "You'll have to excuse him, he gets bored easily."

"Rose, I am right here you know."

"Yeah, I know."

He stuck his tongue out at her and the others chuckled.

"So how long did the to-do list I left you take?" Rose asked.

"Finished it by noon."

She would have to make tomorrow's much longer then. "So, you've gone domestic then?" she teased. The Doctor's eyes widened in horror and she laughed at him.

"Rose, would you like a drink?" Adge asked, moving towards the kitchen. "Tea, coffee, fayn juice?"

"Erm ... fayn juice, please," she said, slightly wary but curiosity won out.

The Doctor and Lada continued a discussion they'd obviously been in the middle of before Rose had come in, about the state of the economy. Lada, it turned out, was in accounting. Rose didn't have much to add to the discussion, so remained silent until Adge returned with her drink.

"Thank you," she said, taking a tentative sip. Not bad at all. "So, Adge, what do you do?"

"I teach quisiarphology," he replied. At Rose's blank look, he explained, "The study of qui energy and its counter effects on the abstract at a physical level."

"Erm, right," Rose said, making a mental note to ask the Doctor to translate later.

"And yourself?"

Determined not to be embarrassed, Rose sat up a little straighter and tried to channel the Doctor's gift with words. "I ... I'm part of a team that surveys and supports the channel of input and output with responsibility for ... retaining a level flow of productivity in the retail sector, and maintaining a relationship with cus—clients via impromptu and irregular communications requiring task management, erm, geographical navigation and, and people skills."

Adge looked impressed, if a little confused, and Rose glowed with pride. Until Lada spoke up, breaking the spell. "I thought the Doctor said you stacked shelves at the supermarket?"

Rose shot the Doctor a death glare, and he flinched slightly. "I said it was temporary! Just till we both get settled in, I mean we've only just arrived. Going to take a while to get two careers flying."

"That's true," Adge said. "Especially in the present climate; the job market is pretty thin at the moment. You probably got lucky, Rose, applying to the supermarket when you did. The only reason there was positions free was because of that incident two weeks ago."

Rose frowned. "What incident?"

"You mean they haven't told you? It was in the papers. Three staff members died of food poisoning after taking home deli leftovers."

The Doctor raised his eyebrows, and Rose made a mental note to throw out the sausage.


	19. The Early Doodle-Bird

Rose groaned as the alarm clock pulled her out of Dreamland, and cursed the tradition of allocating early-morning shifts to the new workers. As if the change of day length was not enough to adjust to, the last time she had had to wake up for a set time was years ago.

Now awake, she realised she had a problem. The alarm was still merrily beeping, but she couldn't reach it to turn it off, as it was next to the Doctor's side of the bed. He was still sound asleep, one arm slung over her, which was preventing her from being able to even sit up. Rose knew that the Doctor, while not sleeping as much as her, was as impossible to wake as a corpse when he did sleep. After contemplating the problem, Rose spent several minutes wriggling out of his grip before climbing—none too gently—over him and finally managing to hit the alarm silent. The Doctor didn't even stir.

Nursing the beginning of a headache, Rose showered quickly and returned to the kitchenette, where she found a flask of coffee and note on the bench: _Rose—breakfast in fridge._

In the fridge was a plate of scrambled eggs, labelled with instructions for heating them up. She shook her head, torn between amused and sympathetic. He must have been _really_ bored yesterday.

She'd forgotten to do another to-do list for him last night, and she wouldn't have time now. Rose reheated and bolted her breakfast, resolving she wouldn't worry. Not a bit. He'd be fine.

He wouldn't work his way round the entire block with a hoover, would he?

Maybe he should take up paid cleaning. Lada and Adge had seemed quite happy with the quality of his splurge on their flat. It would be some extra money till a job suitable for him came up. Rose wondered what he'd have to say about that thought, and chuckled, deciding to raise the subject after she came back.

She cleared her plate and pulled on her coat, and then a mischievous grin spread over her face as she got an idea. She rummaged in his coat pocket till she found a permanent marker, and then outlined a pair of glasses around his eyes, drew a pair of cat's whiskers and a little goatee on as well, and then on his forehead, the words _CLEAN ME_.

There, that should keep his boredom at bay for a few hours.


	20. Heads or Knickers

The moment had come.

The Doctor chewed his lip, staring at the carrier bag currently serving as their laundry basket. After a moment he peered inside. "I think it's time we tried out the washing machine, Rose."

"There can't be that much in there, look it's tiny."

"It's bigger on the inside," he replied.

"Oh. How much bigger?"

"Big enough. I for one don't want to run out of ... anything. So ... how are we going to do this?"

There was an awkward pause, neither wanting to be the one to volunteer to handle the other's underwear.

"Oh, for goodness' sake," Rose said at last. "We're both grown-ups, we can be mature about this. We take turns, deal?"

"Deal."

She pulled out a coin. "Let's flip to see who goes first. Heads or tails?"

"Heads," he said as she flipped it.

"Best of—"

"No," the Doctor said firmly. "You get started on the laundry, I'll go out and get us a proper basket to keep it in. Anything else we need?"

"Soap power, fabric softener and something to hang it all out on afterwards," Rose said.

"Oh. Good idea."

Rose sat down on the bed and picked up one of the Doctor's books. "Go on then, best get a move on. The washing won't soap itself."

* * *

The Doctor was wondering how exactly he had ended up feeling like he had got the short straw, as he tried re-folding and unfolding the airer for the hundredth time. The laundry, already freshly washed by Rose, was waiting in a crumpled wet heap in the new basket while he struggled to make sense of the instructions.

"Where does this thing go?" He balanced a sort of flap in his hand, glaring at the row of holes that he was somehow supposed to fit another piece into.

"Need some help?"

"No," he said with gritted teeth. Pride would not allow him to give into her smirk. "If I can bring down a Kazutan Empire with nothing but a compass and a bottle of milk, I can do this."

"If you say so." Rose stretched out on the bed, going back to her book—well, the Doctor's book, one of the few that had been inside his pockets the day they'd lost the TARDIS.

The Doctor sighed, dropping the pieces and bringing the instructions right up to his face to make sure he was reading them correct. They were written in half a dozen different languages, and while the distant chameleon circuit was still translating with ease, the original wording was slightly wonky in each—meaning that each set of directions contradicted the others.

"I _can_ do this," he muttered again, determinedly avoiding Rose's eye.

"For goodness' sake Doctor, it's only an airer," Rose said. "How would you fare with a flat pack dresser?"

"Good thing that's not on the list then," he muttered. "OW!" An attempt to pull apart two pieces he'd put together wrong had slipped and pinched his finger.

"Ready to admit defeat yet?"

"Rose, I've defeated Daleks and Cybermen and monsters from the deepest depths of the galaxy. I will not be outdone by a three-piece piece of plastic made for drying knickers."

"I think you've got the main part upside-down."

"Shut up."

* * *

Two hours later, the Doctor looked at the time and sighed. It was late, and Rose was in bed, still watching his struggles in amusement.

"Rose."

"Yes, Doctor?"

"Could you give me a hand?" he mumbled.

Rose got out of bed, briefly glanced at the instructions, and stood the main part of the airer up correctly before slotting the two extensions easily into place, and headed back to bed. "You only had to ask."


	21. Drawing on the Past

A week went by, and the Doctor spent his days completing the tasks on the to-do lists that Rose left behind for him whilst she worked, which were usually a mixture of sensible things that needed doing—like vacuuming the carpet—and things that had no point at all, such as making a giant card pyramid with the six packs of playing cards he had in his pockets. Some were even verging on the ridiculous, such as writing a census of all the spiders in the loft, including their exact size, the number of webs, and giving them all names.

He wasn't stupid, he realised Rose was trying to keep him busy to help him from falling into total boredom, or worse, depression. And it did help, though what they were going to do with twenty daisy chains and a gingerbread house was beyond him.

When the next lot of newspapers came out, the Doctor bought a copy of every one and scoured the jobs sections. The neighbours were right; it looked like a tough climate out there. He hadn't even seen anything remotely interesting. If he did, he probably stood a better chance than most at getting it, as long as he didn't 'show off', as Rose had put it, in the interview. He wasn't sure he understood that. Job interviews were about selling yourself, weren't they? He was a genius, it would make sense to get that across.

Ah, well. He'd cross that bridge if he ever came to it.

He felt restless. Apart from the odd venture outside for some bizarre errand as instructed by his companion, he'd spent most of his time in the flat. He glanced at the latest list Rose had left for him, and decided to ignore it in favour of getting some fresh air and exercise. The Doctor picked up his keys, the local map, put on his coat and left.

There was a park slightly further out towards E section, and he walked round it for a while, before settling on a bench and taking out his sketchbook. It had been new shortly before losing the TARDIS, and the first few pages were sketches he'd made while still in his old life. He thumbed through them, taking in the alien landscapes, often with Rose somewhere in the picture, and a couple of close-up portraits of her in the TARDIS living room she hadn't been aware he was making.

Despite Rose's suggesting it a few days back, he hadn't drawn since they'd been stranded. Although he could draw from memory, he preferred the subject in front of him, preferred to absorb himself in the environment. Well, he had only one environment now. Maybe he should practise drawing from memory.

The Doctor turned to a fresh page, took out a pencil, and after hesitating, began outlining a police box.

Strange, the TARDIS had been such a big part of his life—the biggest part—and yet he had never thought to draw it on its own. It had featured in the background often enough, and once he'd drawn Rose and Jack standing outside the doors, but he'd never dedicated a whole picture to it. Well, he was going to now, while he could still remember every detail.

The noises of the park dimmed; the Doctor became completely absorbed in his creation, the way he always did, as the TARDIS' outside took form on the page. After this one, he resolved, he would draw the inside, which was just as beautiful and deserved its own representation in his sketchbook. Possibly several.

The lines flowed on the page; he carefully shaded and smudged where required; and finally came to focus on the finer details. The light on top—lit up, of course. And the words on the sign on the front: _Police Telephone. Free for use of public. Advice and assistance obtainable immediately. Officer and cars respond to all calls ..._

He paused.

Push to open? Pull to open?

Nearly nine centuries he'd travelled in that phone box. And now, barely a fortnight after being separated from her ... and he couldn't even remember what the sign on her door said.

There were tears on his cheeks, he realised with a start. He had no idea how long they'd been there.


	22. Fallout

Rose's phone went in the middle of her shift. She looked down at it, expecting to see 'Mum' on the screen. But the number was unfamiliar.

She nipped into the toilets and answered. "Hello?"

"Rose, was it push or pull?"

"Doctor! What are you doing, calling me in the middle of work? Wait, what?"

"On the front of the TARDIS," he said. "The sign on her door. Did it say push or pull?"

"That's what you called to ask?"

"I don't remember."

He sounded heartbroken. Rose closed her eyes. She'd hoped this moment wouldn't come when she was at work. "I ... I think it said pull. Yeah, I'm pretty sure it was pull."

"Are you certain?"

"Yeah. Remember, my mum commented on it once, 'cause you always push."

Well, pushed. Past tense now.

"Oh," the Doctor said. "Yeah, I think I remember now. Thanks."

"Doctor," Rose said gently. "Are you okay?"

He sniffed. "Yeah. Fine."

"Doctor. I could come home if you want, get Elsa to cover for me."

"No, don't do that," he said. "I'm okay. Anyway, I'm not at the flat, I'm in the park. Drawing."

"Oh," Rose said, surprised. "Well ... good. What are you drawing?"

There was a pause. "The TARDIS."

Rose bit her lip. Was that good or not?

"You can show me when I get back," she said, trying to sound cheerful. "My shift finishes at fourteen, so I'll be home just after that, okay?"

"Okay."

Rose pocketed her phone, thinking. Maybe she should go back anyway. It was a difficult decision.

When she exited the toilet, deep in thought, Elsa spotted her and hurried over.

"Rose?" She lowered her voice almost to a whisper. "I saw you take that call. Is everything okay?"

"Yeah," Rose said. "Everything's fine."

"You're crying."

"What?" Rose reached up, and felt a tear on her cheek. "Oh. No, I'm okay, really. I'm just worried about my companion."

"Seems your default setting," Elsa commented, handing her a hanky.

"Thanks. And this is different from before."

"How so?"

"I think he's about to have a breakdown. I saw it coming since we arrived here, he's been acting like everything's fine all this time but I knew at some point—" Rose's voice broke.

"Go home, Rose," Elsa said firmly.

* * *

"Doctor?"

The flat was empty.

Rose told herself not to panic. He was probably still out drawing. He hadn't said a time he'd be back.

She waited, unable to focus on anything other than worrying. Dinnertime came, and after searching the fridge for something already cooked that didn't exist, she opened up a tin of meat and ate it with a chunk of bread. She wanted to be able to drop it at a moment's notice once the Doctor came in.

Dinnertime passed, and it was dusk. Surely he'd be back by now, he couldn't draw in this light.

Rose tried redial again, but the phone wouldn't connect. He must have used a public one. They really needed to get a second phone.

He'd said he was in a park. But which one?

* * *

"There you go, Mrs Tyler."

"It's Miss," Rose corrected.

"Sorry, Ms Tyler."

She didn't bother to correct the officer again as she took the tea. "Thank you."

"We've put out a description," DI Gasham said. "Strictly speaking we can't classify him as a missing person for another eight hours, but—"

"Look, I wouldn't normally worry, he can take care of himself fine mostly," Rose said. "But when he last spoke to me he was upset, depressed even, and I knew at some point there'd be fallout from losing the TARDIS. It wasn't just a ship, it's been his home most of his life. I'm scared that right now he's not thinking straight."

"Yes, so you've said. Three times," Gasham muttered. "As I was trying to say, since taking into account the circumstances, we've begun the search, starting with the parks in the area. Don't worry, we'll find him. We have the best track record for missing persons in Slogv."

"You'd better," Rose said. "Or you'll have to answer to my mother."


	23. Salt Water

A hand on his shoulder jerked the Doctor awake; only then did he realise he'd dozed off again. He shook his head, trying to wake himself up, and a voice spoke next to him. "Dr Tyler?"

"Yeah?" he mumbled, rubbing his eyes.

As he spoke, there was a shout of "DOCTOR!" and he was suddenly engulphed in blonde hair.

"Your companion was quite worried about you," said the first voice, its owner drawing aside to let them have a moment.

"Rose," he murmured, clutching her as close as he could.

"You idiot," she said softly, burying her face in his shoulder. "You realise I had the police out looking for you."

"Sorry."

For a long time they just hugged, before Rose gently drew back to look at him properly.

"This was not the way I envisioned our first visit to the seaside," she said with a small laugh, brushing sand off his shoulder. Despite the humour, she looked exhausted, and he realised he must look worse. "What did you come out here for?"

"Dunno," he said. "I didn't plan it; I just sort of wandered around and ended up on the beach."

"You scared me. I thought I was losing you."

"I didn't mean to scare you. I'm sorry."

* * *

They returned to the flat more or less in silence, arriving well after midnight. Rose had just held the Doctor's hand the whole way, knowing that she couldn't do more till he decided to open up to her.

She hadn't eaten properly, and figured he probably hadn't eaten anything, so paused after exiting the bus. "Do you want to get something to eat?"

"Not hungry," he mumbled. "You get something if you want."

Rose shook her head, deciding just to have a piece of fruit or something before she went to sleep, and they headed up. She changed into her pyjamas in the bathroom, and came out to find the Doctor still fully dressed, sitting on the mattress staring into space.

"Doctor?" she said gently, placing a light hand on his shoulder.

"Rose, the TARDIS is gone." He swallowed, and she saw his eyes were wet.

"I'd been wondering when this would happen." She sat down beside him and grasped his hand in both her own, stroking the back of his hand with her thumb.

"She was always there," he continued, in a half-strangled voice. "Always, after everyone else had gone; died or left me. But now she's gone." A choked sigh. "I can still feel her. Out of reach. Not forever, without a pilot she'll just shut down eventually. She'll die alone, the last TARDIS of Gallifrey."

"I'm sorry, Doctor." There was nothing more she could say.

The Doctor turned to look at her. "Rose."

"Yeah?"

"Will you stay with me?"

She stared at him, slightly taken aback. "Of course."

"'Cause I know this isn't exactly the life you signed up for, stuck here ..."

She put a finger on his lips. "Doctor, stop. I'm staying with you, end of story."

He pulled her into a hug that was, if possible, even tighter than the one they'd shared at the police station. "I don't think I could stand being totally alone," he murmured in her ear.

"You won't be. I'm here. I'm here, Doctor." Rose rubbed his back and kissed his shoulder. "I may not be made of blue wood or be able to speak infinite languages, but you've got me anyway."

The humour worked; he managed a tiny chuckle. "Promise?"

"Promise. You couldn't get rid of me if you wanted to."

"Never," he vowed.

The time for conversation passed; they just held each other until the sky was starting to lighten. The Doctor lay down with his head cradled in Rose's arms and they both dozed lightly until the alarm went off.

* * *

"How's your companion?" Elsa asked two days later.

Rose nodded. "Better. Thanks for covering."

"It's no problem, moving planet has got to be a trying time for anyone. I understand."

Moving planet was the least of it, Rose thought, but kept it to herself and continued working. Losing the TARDIS … adopting a mundane life … it was no wonder he hadn't cracked before now. She suppressed a sigh, hoping now the inevitable outburst had occurred, the way was paved for some kind of emotional healing.

What he needed, she thought not for the first time, was a distraction. The only thing Rose could think of was finding him a job.

"Elsa?"

"Yes?"

"Know of any jobs available, suitable for a not-very-modest genius?"


End file.
